Friday, July 11, 2008

Save the chicken, save the world.

Yep, I’m a hero, a chicken hero. Never saw myself as a chicken hero, but I find myself there today. Yesterday I went up to milk goats and to my dismay found a chick floating in the goats’ water tank. It has happened a couple times before. They hop up to roost on the side or they decide the goat water is better and in they go. Hershey is always happy to take care of disposal. I try to only fill it to the point where the chicks can hop back out in the event of an unintentional falling in. But this chick was inexperienced and little, Broody Hen’s chick. Obviously mom wasn’t doing her job and let little chicky swim in the deep end without her water wings.

I scooped the lifeless white body from the water and looked around for the dog. Then something inside me said “try CPR” Um ok, I’ve had opportunity to perform CPR on a few occasions...do I have to admit only on animals? Ok well, back to the story. ....but never on a chicken. Ooooookay, where to start?

I grabbed her by the feet and swung her around side to side to in attempt to clear water from her lungs. Lift up her wing, hmmmm no movement, no heart beats or breathing. Ok, I look around suddenly feeling like I’m on candid camera or something, but begin to compress her chest. After a minute or so it dawns on me, I should probably be giving a few puffs into her lungs. I stop and assess the situation, no movement still. I give a small puff into the nose holes on the top of her beak, then back to compressing. After 5 minutes of breathing and compressing, I assess again. Still nothing, the sun is getting hot on my back, in sharp contrast to the cold, wet, lifeless body I hold in my hands. I think about stopping, but continue on. Another 10 minutes passes, I assess things once again. I see a slight twitching of the muscles in her chest, but no breathing. I continue for another 10 minutes, all the while thinking if any of my friends saw me they’d send the guys with the white jacket. Then I feel some movement in her neck, she slowly pulls her head up, I figure its just nerves, but then it happened.

A short sneeze. Then nothing. My efforts are continues with renewed enthusiasm. By this time her feathers have begun to fluff up and dry out. After a few minutes, another sneeze and a shake of her little head. Her head begins to move slowly back and forth against her back in a rhythmic fashion. Eyes closed, back and forth, back and forth her head stiffly moves and her legs begin to shake. Great, she’s brain damaged, I think to myself. I lift her wing and check for movement. I see her chest rise and fall as she takes a breath, followed by water bubbling out her nose. I wait for another, after what seems forever she breathes again. Then another sneeze. Its been a half hour now, but its obvious she is fighting for her life. I continue to hold her and warm her still cold body. Her legs begin to show signs of strength, After 5 minutes I set her down in the sun and proceed to milk the goats. When I finish I notice she is still in the same spot I left her in, but eyes closed she is holding her head up. Looks like she will pull through. I approach her and she tries weakly to walk away. I leave her to recover her strength.

An hour later I go to check on her and she is gone. I find her down in the creek happily scouting bugs. So you see, I’m a hero, chicken hero. Not many can make that claim. I may have to start wearing my apron around my neck, after all every hero needs a cape. Gotta run, I think I hear a chicken calling.

Photobucket
The little white chick nearly died. She's not at all appreciative of my efforts either. Thought the hero at least got a hug or kiss.

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